


Nightingale

by trekwars777



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jazz Clubs, Multi, Rose is a Badass, another modern au, brendol is actually nice, of course hux plays the sax, there's a playlist that goes with this, vader wins the shitty dad award
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16940766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekwars777/pseuds/trekwars777
Summary: A sequel to Starfire Dawn by KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls.Athena Phasma is on Cloud Nine- she is in love with Armitage Hux, and her club Nightingale is already very popular. Unfortunately, her livelihood hangs in the balance when a mysterious man known as Vader shows up and instates a hostile takeover of Nightingale, all in the name of some "Emperor." Naturally, she wants to win it back- even if it means uncovering shady dealings and a dark secret.





	1. Lush Life

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Starfire Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485539) by [KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls/pseuds/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls). 



The link for the playlist is [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/lennonsgirl42/playlist/4o2lowhMsuatoPaq1bUqkA?si=IX4x3pbNQRCExkg2X9geYg</p>)

HUX

I look down at my pocket watch and note the time- five-thirty, the exact time the firm is supposed to close at, most of the time. Lucky for me, I will be leaving at that time today, since we’ve scheduled no meetings. I close my briefcase and smile, glad to finally be out of the office and on to doing my own thing. Adelaide, my assistant, waves goodbye to me and I return the gesture as I get in the car. A turn of the key and the car rumbles to life, Charlie Parker playing on the radio as I make my way home. As soon as the door is unlocked, Millicent trots over with a happy mew and proceeds to weave between my legs, happy to see that her hooman has come home from work. 

“You hungry, Milly?” I ask her, and she replies with a meow of resounding joy, leading me over to her food bowl, which then gets filled up with morsels of cat food. My phone buzzes and I dig it out of my pocket- it’s a text from Ren, but an informal one. 

[txt: Ren] u going to nightingale tonight?

[reply] obviously. Athena and I have a surprise for all of you 

[txt: Ren] looking forward to it! see u then! 

With a mischievous chuckle, I pocket my phone and fix dinner for myself- left over coq au vin with some mashed potatoes and vegetables. Just as soon as I finish up, the house phone rings. I look at the caller ID and smile- it’s none other than Athena Phasma, my darling and (hopefully) my future wife. 

“Hello, angel,” I say, mentally kicking myself for how cheesy I must sound. Instead, I am greeted with a sweet laugh that makes my pulse rush. 

“Bon soir,” she replies. “Are you getting ready?” she asks me in that lilt of a voice. 

“I just finished having dinner,” I say, as I walk up the stairs to my room, Millicent on my heels. 

“Ah, I understand. Call time is eight-thirty, okay, dear?” she says, and I can swear I see her smiling through the phone. 

“Yes, darling. See you then, au revoir,” I say. 

“Au revoir,” she replies, sealing it with a kiss before hanging up. I sigh and head over to my closet. A tuxedo would be too formal- maybe just a dinner jacket and an undone bow tie? No. I scrounge the rack until I find exactly what I was looking for- a classic black suit, paired with an emerald green tie and those jade cufflinks she got me a while back. One last splash of cologne and look in the mirror, and I’m good to go. However, I seem to be missing something- one quick glance around the room and I find it, resting on a stand. I pick up my tenor saxophone, place the strap around my neck, and tune up for a bit before placing it back in the case. As of now, I am ready to go, and with moments to spare. I give Millicent a few pats on the head and I’m off to Nightingale. 

PHASMA 

Standing by the Steinway, I rehearse the last bit of the song as Mitaka plays the final bars, his fingers gliding over the keys gracefully in sync with my last few notes. From his perch on a barstool Pudge meows in approval at my final note, and then I hear applause. In comes Armitage Hux, that handsome young lawyer who caught my eye, and rumor has it, plays the saxophone. (I could tell he brought his horn because the case he had seemed different than a briefcase.) I curtsy for both of them and smile as he comes on stage. 

“Good evening, my darling, Mitaka,” he says, kissing my hand sweetly and acknowledging Mitaka with a nod. Pudge hops down and trots over to Mitaka’s bench, hopping on the piano keys and meowing for Hux to pet him. Mitaka winces slightly at the ungodly mess of notes Pudge creates, but he’s gotten used to it. Pudge only did that in rehearsals, most of the time he goes backstage and naps either in his bed or in his yurt- but from time to time, he makes an appearance. In fact, he's Nightingale's unofficial greeter and mascot- he even has his favorite barstool. 

“So, are you nervous?” I ask him, as he brings a barstool and opens his case, which he set on the stool. Like a pearl in an oyster, a tenor sax rested among velvet lining and seemed to catch the lights, glinting like a sunbeam. 

“I have to admit that I am,” he confessed with an awkward chuckle. “I mean, the last time I got on stage was when you weren’t feeling well, and that was some time in May,” he said. 

“A moment I wish I saw,” I whisper as the instrument began to slowly take shape. He plays a few warm up scales, and I feel my heart flutter. Finn comes out from the backstage area and begins to set up the stage- a music stand and barstool for Armitage, another barstool for my slower numbers, and the crown jewel- my microphone. I sing an arpeggio into it and it still works like a charm. We run through our number and it sounds like perfection, with Mitaka’s piano and Hux’s saxophone blending with my voice to make gorgeous music the patrons will go wild over. 

“Miss, it’s nearly eight thirty,” Mitaka informs me by looking down at his phone. “We should head backstage now,” he adds, getting up from the piano. 

“Thank you, Mitaka,” I say, as I head over to my dressing room, kissing Hux on his cheek as he heads into the audience to speak with his colleagues for a while. 

HUX 

I go into the audience and immediately I find Ren, Dameron, and (ugh) Krennic seated at the table. Ren seems to have taken a liking to the club, which surprises me, while Dameron seems he would rather be at a local bar listening to rockabilly on the jukebox. Krennic simply people watches, keeping his eye on the door in fear which strikes me as odd. 

“Hux, you’re here early,” Ren says, elbowing me. Krennic smirks and Dameron chuckles slightly. 

“You do know that Athena and I are engaged now, right gentlemen?” I say, taking a sip of Starfire Dawn, the club’s signature cocktail. 

“Well, then we can toast to that!” Dameron said, raising his glass of wine in a toast. 

“To the happy couple!” Krennic cheers, and our glasses clink. After downing a sip, Finn taps me on the shoulder gently. 

“Hux, you’re on,” he says. I smile at the guys and nod at them. 

"On?" Poe asks. "What do you mean, on?" I simply smile enigmatically and shoot him a wink, dashing offstage and keeping them guessing. 

“Got to dash right now, see you all later,” I say, before going backstage. I move into the wings of the stage, making sure that they don’t notice me back there, waiting for Phasma to be announced. The lights in the club dim, the chatter dies down to a whisper, and I hear Mitaka’s voice introduce Phasma to the sound of wild applause. The piano sounds, and then the angel sings. Sophisticated Lady- I’ve always liked this one, it’s been a good thing that I memorized the solo. For now, I'm waiting backstage, Pudge gently nudging me as I listen to her sing, falling in love with her all over again like it was that fateful night when I first heard her. I prepare myself for those last notes before my solo, not even minding that a light dusting of white fur is now on one of my pant legs- no one can see it anyway. When she sings the last few notes before the bridge, I raise the mouthpiece to my lips, take a breath, and play, emerging slowly from the curtain as I make my way to my barstool and music stand. My colleagues and their reactions were priceless- Poe lets out an audible gasp, Ren almost spits out his cocktail, and Krennic’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of me up on stage with Athena Phasma, playing my saxophone. They didn’t even know I played sax- they never suspected that the music coming from my office during some lunch breaks was actually me playing! But now, they seem to appreciate my talent more after this moment. She sings the last bars of the song, and I play a final cadenza to add some detail to it- and the audience bursts into applause. 

PHASMA

They loved it- they actually loved it. I smile sweetly, Mitaka bows, and Armitage bows as well, a light blush coloring his cheeks. Gently, I kiss him on the cheek, and he returns the favor by kissing me on the hand like the sophisticated gentleman he is, making my heart flutter. 

“Armitage Hux on saxophone, ladies and gentlemen- give him a hand!” I say with a smile as the applause seems to skyrocket around the bar. We continue our set up until the last encore, and then we head backstage for a moment. I use this as an opportunity to fix my makeup and give Pudge extra attention before I go out and order a drink or two. 

“You were angelic,” Hux compliments me, putting away his saxophone as I put my lipstick back on again. 

“And you, my love, were exquisite,” I return as we both head out the door and to the bar. The bartender hands both of us champagne, and as we are about to take a sip, the door opens. In walks a tall, muscular man looking like he was dressed to go to a funeral, following him was a guy in a gray pin stripe suit looking annoyed with everything. Two guys in white dinner jackets and machine guns trail behind the pair, and I feel my heart begin to race. 

“I need to speak to the owner of this club,” the funeral guest says, his voice booming over the hushed whispers of the crowd. I walk forward, putting on an air of confidence, when in reality, I was terrified for both myself, Hux, and everyone at the club. 

“You’re speaking to her right now,” I say, confident as I’ll ever be. He raises an eyebrow and then laughs, a booming, malicious laugh. 

“Tarkin, bring her the case,” he says, and the man in the gray suit comes forward with an open briefcase. 

“It seems your club has been built on the Emperor’s territory, therefore we must take possession of it. Should you not get it back, this club will belong to Vader and myself,” Tarkin said, nodding at the man in black, who I assumed was Vader.

“Under what grounds?” Hux says, indignantly stepping forward. “I happen to work for the First Order Law,” he said angrily. Tarkin raises an eyebrow and profiles him up and down. 

“Armitage B. Hux, Brendol’s son- what a surprise. I knew I could find you in trashy places like this, but with her? This just takes the cake!” he says, causing the other three to laugh. Defensively, I place a hand on him and shoot a death glare at the uninvited guests. 

“Spit it out, Tarkin- what do we need to do?” I tell him.

“You have to find some way to round up five hundred thousand dollars before Christmas, or say goodbye to Nightingale forever,” Vader said, as they left the club as silent as ghosts. Everyone around us seemed to murmur, sad at the thought of Nightingale being gone- but especially me. I had fleshed out the club from the very start- and I wouldn’t let Vader or the Emperor or whoever get away with taking it. 

It was time for me to fight back. 


	2. Take Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux learns more about Vader, Phasma prepares for a ball, and some information is found.

PHASMA

I went home, fuming about the fate of Nightingale. I was supposed to be preparing for the Halloween Gala, not panicking over where to drum up five hundred grand in two months! Angrily, I punched a pillow and let out a frustrated scream, annoyed with myself for being a cliché as well as my situation. 

“Pudge, how dare this Vader guy come in and decide to take over?!” I said, slipping off my dress and tossing it on a hanger while Pudge kneaded the bedspread. All he offered me was a half-hearted meow before rolling on his side and showing me his stomach. “I worked hard on Nightingale, ever since construction started! It just isn’t fair!” I pout, flopping on the bed like a petulant child. Pudge stares at me and gives me another meow, except this one seems more like a scolding one. He then proceeds to nuzzle me and rub his head on an arm, purring with reassurance as I cry. 

“Thank you, mon chou,” I sigh. “You always know how to make a girl feel better. I better get some rest,” I say, heading over to the bathroom and preparing myself for sleep. Once my makeup was off and I did all I needed to do, I set myself in bed, my favorite spy novel on the right side of the bed. 

“We’ll always have Paris,” I mutter, before closing my eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep, Pudge beside me purring away as he dreamed about tuna. 

HUX 

“Sorry I’m so late, Millicent,” I say to my cat as I walk in the door. Nonetheless, she rubs her head on my saxophone case and headbutts my shin, glad to see me home. I feel sad for Athena, especially since this was her club after all- I too, was there when Nightingale was opened, one of the first to delight in the delicious Starfire Dawn that made the bar famous. Now along comes some Vader character, claiming Nightingale like it was a Monopoly property, and then- 

A plan begins to form in my head. It’s time to do some research on how to get the club back. I dash to my study and search around for my laptop- which just so happened to be stashed between a bookshelf and the case for my baritone saxophone. (I’ve been meaning to play my bari for a while- next week, perhaps?) After mentally reminding myself to keep the laptop on my desk, I open it and boot up the machine. The internet boots up perfectly, a lively Google Doodle bidding me welcome. Almost with hesitation, as if he himself is watching me, I type into the bar ‘vader.’ Enter. 

Page after page of results pops up on screen, with the top ones being from the crime blotters of newspapers. Mugshots of that same man who barged into our club glare at me, followed by some pictures of what I assume is him in a gas mask holding a strange thing that looks like a sword fill up the page. What frightens me the most was the one of him with the sword and it’s accompanying tagline: 

“POLICE COMMISSIONER KENOBI SLAIN BY VADER, EMPEROR’S MAFIA.” 

That was when it hit me- Vader had Mafia connections! I open a desk drawer and whip out a notebook, making sure to jot down details. I knew we couldn't sue Vader to death, but in a potential trial, there would definitely be good reason to have incriminating evidence. After all, when you’re a lawyer, you have to know who you’re up against. Now, I search for ‘tarkin,’ and I find something that scares me. Tarkin is another member of the same mafia as Vader, and both of them are pawns of some enigmatic emperor. Digging deeper, I find some more about what the supposed mafia does- besides the usual hits and all that, they launder money, have illegal gambling places and speakeasies, and smuggle goods from out of the country to their clients. The plot thickens- Tarkin and Vader fancy themselves to be the underlings of some mafioso called the Emperor who thinks he's Al Capone. Naturally, my findings lead me to more research about all the different plots the Emperor, who is alleged to be some senator known as Palpatine, set up- one of which was turning the innocent coast town of Mos Eisley into a sin city for whenever he was "off-duty," among other things. 

Am I in too deep? Maybe, but then another idea dawns on me. Since Solo is a public defender, I can send the details to him and he can bring it to the police! It’s flawless- I hope. I had what I needed, now it was time for me to go and get some rest. I would need to speak to Phasma tomorrow. 

PHASMA 

I always enjoy how peaceful Nightingale is without the customers, when it's just me and Pudge, but then I make myself sad before realizing that I may not be able to do something like this ever again. Either way, my mission is to get the place ready for the first ever Halloween Gala, and our inaugural theme- the Gory 20s. Something about murderous mobsters and ghostly flappers struck me, either as a show of my resentment to Vader or because I practically eat, breathe, sing and live Art Deco. (That, and it fit the club's aesthetic rather than making it look like a decrepit spaceship with ravenous aliens and slime oozing out of the woodwork.)  A tasteful neon sign flashes the words “Devil’s Speakeasy” on and off as ghostly moans accompany the flashing. Since that works, I set an animatronic phonograph on the table and flip the switch. The record spins and an out-of-tune piano rendition of The Entertainer begins to play, slowly becoming distorted as demonic growls and a cry for help come out of the machine. Perfect. I set that on the bar, next to a flickering candelabra when my phone begins to buzz. It’s Hux. 

“Darling, I need you to come over to the firm during lunch. I have something I need to tell you about. It’s about Vader,” he says. 

“I’m on my way,” I respond, heading out the door and getting into my car, speeding off to his office. When I enter the lobby, every man within a five foot radius seems to gasp collectively and watch me as I come into the building. I bet if this were a Tex Avery cartoon, a sultry soundtrack would be playing as their eyes all pop out and howl like wolves. Instead, they keep quiet, though I do hear a murmur of “this is fine” coming from someone. As much as I would rather not, I better use my powers now- I walk up to a small group of men, hips swaying slightly, and then proceed to do what might as well be my interpretation of Jessica Rabbit. I have a reputation to keep up, mind you. 

“Do any of you boys know where Hux’s office is?” I purr, throwing in a coquettish smile. Mentally, I’m kicking myself for doing this, but a girl needs to have fun now and then. 

“On the t-third floor and straight to the left. Number seventeen,” one guy says with a slight stammer as his face turns a shade of neon crimson. 

“Thank you,” I say, walking off with those hips swaying again and throwing in a wink and a blown kiss for good measure as I head to the elevator. The entire group is silent. Then, as a collective, I hear out loud, “This is fine.” The doors close, and I transform from Red Hot Riding Hood into my regular self. Besides, the chances that they know me as a sultry nightclub singer are higher than the ones of a normal woman. 

HUX 

I hear a knock at the door, and I dash around the room, expecting everything to be perfect. Thank God the French bistro had delivery, and thank God they threw in the champagne with the order as well. I open the door and in comes Phasma, who smiles sweetly at me. 

“Hello, angel. How are you?” I ask, kissing her hand (which I know she loves.) 

“I’m well, dear, I’m currently getting ready for the Halloween Gala at Nightingale. So you called me?” she asked, to which I reply with a nod. 

“Yes, dear. I found out something about Vader that might surprise you,” I say, offering her a seat and a glass of champagne, which she takes. 

“Hmm? What is it?” I sit down myself and take out my notebook, explaining everything I found out from last night. 

“Vader is a member of the Emperor’s Mafia, a crime syndicate with plans to stage several robberies and a coup or two.” Her eyes grow wide as I tell her more, and she shakes her head in disbelief. I truly hate to see Phasma in pain, it makes me feel like I’m useless if I can’t find a solution. “I’m assuming they want to capture Nightingale like it’s a pawn on a chessboard and use it as their hangout!” I say. The moment I say those words, both of us know they’ve hit the jugular. 

“How dare they?!” Phasma roars in anger, slamming a hand on the table. “They can’t do that to me!” I nod, rage bubbling up within me as well. 

“I have an idea. It may seem stupid, but I believe we should expose them and their corruption to everyone. Then, if all goes well, you can have Nightingale back! What do you think?” I say, looking to her. Without a doubt, Phasma smiles, determined to see that justice is served and what is rightfully hers will return to her. 

“I think the plan is wonderful. We can take the Emperor head on, and he and his self-righteous goons will be behind bars! Darling, you’re amazing!” she says, kissing me on the lips before picking up her champagne glass in a toast. 

“To the plan!” I say, as she clinks glasses with mine. However, a small inkling of a thought blooms in my mind. What if we’re unsuccessful? What if it’s all for naught? While I celebrated on the outside, on the inside, I shuddered. No one said this would be easy, but it would be worth a shot anyway. Because like it or not, I wanted Phasma to have her club back. All I needed to do was form a plan and make it come to fruition, which I knew would be seldom easy. 


	3. Daddy, Won't You Please Come Home?

HUX 

After asking around at the firm, I am possibly one of the few people who knows about Vader- which is good, because at least Phasma and I weren’t alone. The two who confided in me most about this madman were Ben and (surprise surprise) Krennic. Ben apparently is Vader’s grandson, but after a change of heart, he decided to stay loyal to his mother- none other than Leia Organa, known to some as “the queen of the courthouse.” During this one big brouhaha a while back, she slammed her father so hard, legend says he turned tail and ran out of that courtroom like a kicked dog. Ben said he only knew so much about him, except he used to be partners with both Krennic and none other than my father, Brendol Hux, and I would have to pay a visit to both those assholes. Lucky me. 

I knock on the door to Krennic’s office, and over the sound of a Vivaldi piece, I can manage to hear him say “come in.” In I go, nervous and uncertain as ever, because for all I know, Krennic could still be loyal to Vader. Oddly enough, he isn’t working on the usual papers that we have to- he’s marking a piece of viola sheet music for God knows what. But to be honest, I can imagine him in a smoking jacket playing his viola, like some sadistic Sherlock Holmes. 

“Uh, Krennic, I need to talk to you,” I managed to stammer, as he gestures for me to sit down. 

“Certainly, Hux. What is it about?” he says, still lost in the music. 

“It’s about Vader,” I say- and then he tensed up. He turns at me like a robot in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Since I must be one of the idiotic characters in the B-movie he's roasting, he scoffs, followed by shooting a glare at me. 

“And what, pray tell, do you want to know?” he asks me. It’s no feat of heroism, but I manage to muster up some confidence and tell him exactly what I came for. 

“Krennic, tell me everything you know about him and what he wants to do with Nightingale.” He gasped in horror- genuine horror- and scowls at me.

"How do you know about Vader?" he hissed.

"Well, he made an appearance at Nightingale and wants to take it for himself, remember?" I said. "You were there." Admitting defeat, he nods at me in shame. 

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I used to know Vader for a while. Then he demanded I leave him be for some odd reason. Now I want nothing to do with him," he explained as I nodded. After that, he looks around, as if we were being bugged by Vader, and then he finally gives it all away. “Vader wants to take control of Nightingale and make it the new command central for the Emperor’s Syndicate, ever since one of their warehouses was destroyed by Skywalker and the rest of the police force.”

“But why would they want a nightclub?” I wondered, realizing that I sounded like the biggest moron in the world. Krennic took notice of that, and shot me an exasperated look before going on. 

“Same reason as Al Capone and all those other Prohibition gangsters- to put up a front. Money laundering and gambling might as well be part of the whole shebang, but they have even bigger plans. We’re talking get rid of the mayor plans. Once Organa “disappears” from his position, then the Emperor can take charge and turn it into another Mos Eisley.” I shudder at the thought of Hosnian, our small yet bustling city, becoming into a hellhole like Mos Eisley, the unofficial sin city of the region- people have called it "Palpatine's Playground" and I had no idea why they meant that until now. “But…” Krennic reminds me, “we can stop him.” 

“We just have to beat him to the punch before he gets to us,” I muse. “I bet in a week or so, he’ll either send someone to the Halloween Ball or make an appearance,” I say. “Thanks so much, Krennic. You have no idea how much this means to us.” He nods and sends me out the door as soon as I hear a knock. Must be another client, so I make my way out of the office and to mine to let Phasma know about the current situation. But for now, I realize I may need some help with getting something out of Vader. Reaching for my phone, I scroll through my contacts and come across a name- Brendol Hux, none other than my father. He was the one who suggested I was a lawyer rather than a musician, and actually encouraged me to keep playing. I also knew that he locked horns with Vader and his goons quite a while ago, when I was a kid. That must have been the reason our family relocated from Arkanis to Hosnian (which in turn, inspired me to write my own jazz composition, the Arkanis Blues.) Even though I would rather not talk to him and have him nag me for everything I do, I figure he might be the only help we'll get.  Looking up to the heavens for some guidance, I dial the number. 

PHASMA 

Victoriously brandishing the staple gun, the last of the cobwebs comes up and I smile triumphantly at the rest of Nightingale. The Halloween Ball is only a week away, and I am finished with decorating, at last! I guess my strategy of take care of the other stuff first, decorate later payed off, and seeing the place slowly come to life as a decrepit speakeasy was pretty exciting for the patrons. Winded, I unceremoniously ease myself onto a chair and look around. Pudge is batting a paw at the zombie hand that rises up out of a candy bowl, unperturbed by the growls and hisses the dish makes. That’s when I hear Hux speaking with someone, his voice is tense, especially when it comes to the booming voice I hear arguing with him. Immediately, I straighten up and put on my “proper young lady” or “bride to be” act for this mystery guest. 

“Why I had to drive from Arkanis to here to see some nightclub is beyond me!” the new voice boomed, as Armitage and a portly red-haired man walk in. 

“Father, I’m serious, it’s all worth it!” Hux argued with new found confidence. Immediately, I get up and offer the man a seat, which surprisingly he takes. Armitage was about to ask him something along the lines of "you moved back to Arkanis?" but Brendol wouldn't let him say a single thing, which was awfully frustrating to him. 

“I should have a proper explanation for this debacle, boy!” he roared, taking in the newly decorated club before shooting a look at me. “And who are you anyway?” he questions. 

“My name is Athena Phasma, the proprietor of this club and Armitage’s fiancée,” I say coolly. “ And might I inquire as to who you are?” I shoot back. 

“Brendol Hux, Armitage’s father,” he said with a curt nod. 

“May I get you something to drink, sir?” I then ask, forgetting I’m supposed to be a proper young lady instead of a cocktail waitress, yet I hand him the drink menu anyway. He seems to be a bit impressed, and then turns to me. 

“A Coruscant whiskey, neat, if you don’t mind,” he says, handing the menu back to me with an elegant nod before gesturing for Hux to come closer to him. “A fiancée! How come I wasn’t told of this yet?” he chided his son. 

“Well, father, we have a bit of a problem.” 

“Oh, so it’s money you want, eh?” he questioned, his features forming into a glare. 

“No, it’s nothing of the sort. This club, Nightingale, is in danger. Can you tell us everything you know about Vader?” he asked. As soon as I set down the whiskey, he goes pale like a ghost. Apparently Vader’s so notorious, he strikes fear in the hearts of grown men. 

“Oh, I know who you’re dealing with, indeed. No one should trifle with Darth Vader at all. I know I did, and that got me into some deep trouble. I made the mistake of becoming part of his organization, and since I didn’t comply with one request, he has sworn to get his revenge on me somehow.” 

Brendol began to tell us of the plot Vader had to take over the town of Arkanis, the same one that Hux grew up in. Brendol was involved in politics in the town, and Vader had plans to make it into one of his many spots he would lord over. When Brendol said no, Vader threatened to murder him, which lead to the family's relocation to Hosnian for a while. Once Vader was behind bars, Brendol decided to move back to Arkanis where he could try to live a normal life again. 

“I caught that bastard in the act, and the police ran him out of town. Now, he will swear his revenge on me, biding his time to exact misery and wreak havoc on my life. Stay careful, you two. You’ll need all the help you can get.” What does he mean by all that? Extra security? Me carrying a gun in a garter like I’m a reject from _Chicago_? I couldn’t stand it anymore- I needed for him to tell us what the plan was. 

“Sir, what is it that we need to do to keep Vader at bay?” I ask. 

“Well, we’re having a Halloween ball soon,” Armie adds. Brendol nods at the both of us, and then a plan begins to form in his mind as he takes a sip from his drink. 

“Then use that to your advantage,” he says, before walking up on stage to get a view of the place. Strangely, he walks over to the piano and takes a seat at the bench. “Coruscant whiskey and a genuine Steinway? Miss Phasma, you certainly know how to make this club luxurious instead of a trashy dive. I suggest hiding cameras throughout the building, maybe even bug the place. That way, you can dig up any information you have and find out how to take down Vader. When is the ball?” he asked as he picked out Moonlight Sonata. 

“It’s next Friday,” Armitage answered as Brendol nodded. “And Dad? Thank you for doing all of this.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll send you the equipment on Tuesday so we can set it up. And Armitage, she is your fiancée after all. Do something nice for her,” Brendol said before leaving. And with that, he was gone. I let out a sigh and looked to Armitage. 

“I certainly hope this works,” I say. “What if Vader gets suspicious?” I asked. “I mean, he’s bound to notice something seems odd about the place and he’ll confront us.” Reassuringly, Armitage pats me on the back and clasps my hands. 

“Angel, don’t fret. He’ll never suspect a thing. Besides, my father was trained at Scotland Yard. He went undercover and foiled Vader’s plot to take over Arkanis.”

“That explains the vendetta he has against him. I’m just worried about Nightingale and us. What will we do if it doesn't work?" I worry, but then my worry turns to anger. "I have worked too hard for too long to make this place fabulous, and I won't let some mafioso take it from me. We need to take down Vader at whatever cost."


	4. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: BOMB THREAT

## PHASMA 

Brendol’s visit brought us some reassurance, but of course, we didn’t know who to trust. What if Brendol was still working for Vader? No, that probably wouldn’t be reasonable, especially since I literally just met him today. Nonetheless, Hux and I waited for that Tuesday Brendol said he would arrive with the equipment. 

The days seemed to inch by, almost as if some higher power was intent on tormenting me- a fact made obvious by the nightmares I was beginning to have about Vader. He would loom above me holding a machete, a sadistic grin twisted on his face, or I would watch him set fire to Nightingale packed to the gills with patrons. Just as soon as he was about to push me into the flames, I woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of my alarm and Pudge’s concerned meows. 

“It’s okay, Pudgelet, Maman had a nightmare,” I cooed, gently petting him as I looked at my phone lockscreen. It was a picture I took of Hux, one of him in deep thought with his sax across his lap- until I took note of the day. Tuesday. It was here. Brendol was supposed to meet us at the club to set up the cameras at around four, which meant there was just enough time for me to prepare everything (mainly my costume) for Friday’s ball. Immediately, I slid my finger across the lockscreen and texted Hux. 

[txt]: today’s the day brendol comes 

[txt- Armie]: four o’clock, right? 

[txt]: yes. set up and everything, maybe a tech rehearsal 

[txt]: is your costume ready?

[txt-Armie]: working on it. making white tie look like a mess is tough. 

[txt- Armie]: also, fake blood and saxophones don’t mix. I think I ruined a mouthpiece. 

[txt]: ditch the blood or put it somewhere else?

[txt-Armie]: probably. see you, love. 

[txt]: xoxo 

Sighing contently, I made my way downstairs to have breakfast, feeling the satisfaction that we might as well be getting our revenge on Vader soon enough. Or so I hoped…

HUX 

Life at the law firm went on as usual- meetings, marking sheet music, Krennic looking like his usual shifty self. Hold up- Krennic being shifty? This was new, even for me. Hesitantly, I stood outside his office door, expecting to hear music- instead, I heard a frantic phone conversation. 

“It’s at seven p.m., but we can afford to be fashionably late. Yes, Nightingale. I have all the information, I picked it up a while ago. Do I have to come in- oh, fine, it is a Halloween Ball anyway. I figure I’ll wear the cape. Yes, I’ll see you then. Thank you.” The phone hung up and I heard footsteps. Immediately assuming the worst, I tried to get away as soon as possible. Almost luckily, Krennic made his way out of his office in the opposite direction. But I was still so nervous, that when my phone vibrated, I almost yelped in shock. Looking down, I noticed it was my dad. Thank the Maker. 

[txt- Brendol]: Just checked into my hotel, will be at Nightingale at four. Athena reminded the staff ahead of time. 

[txt]: Thank you, dad. See you then. 

I put my phone away, but not before reminding myself about the meeting at four. 

“Adelaide?”

“Yes, sir?” 

“I’ll be leaving a bit early today for, um… an appointment.” 

“Noted,” she said, typing away at her laptop. Obviously I couldn’t say what I was doing, otherwise someone would hear and get suspicious. At around three or so, I got out of my chair, shut down my computer, and made a beeline for my car. Within a few minutes or so, I was at Nightingale, facing my father. I noticed Kylo and Poe were there as well, they had explained that they were volunteering as wait staff to help catch Vader in the act.

“Okay, everyone, thank you for coming ahead of time. As some of you know, Nightingale is in trouble- Vader wants to take control of the club in the name of some Emperor,” Brendol said. “We’ll need to set up cameras throughout the club, because we’ll have evidence to send Vader to jail. Sound good?” Everyone nodded and got straight to work setting up the cameras. For a while, I glanced at Finn, the staff supervisor and our maitre d’, stealing a kiss with Rey, our tech person.

“Will you two be at the ball?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m letting Thannison have maitre d’ duties so Rey and I can go on a proper date,” he said before whispering in my ear. “I’m also hoping I’ll propose to her, Maker willing.”

“Good luck,” I said, smiling at him as we both placed and set up cameras, making sure to keep them in inconspicuous places. But little did we know, we were being watched. 

PHASMA

After preparation, rehearsals, and all that jazz, the Halloween Ball finally came. Thursday’s technical rehearsal went off without a hitch, and it was relieving to know the lights (and cameras) worked properly. As for me, I made sure my ghostly flapper costume looked fabulous- and it did. A white dress I found was tattered and stained with dirt and blood, with a high enough slit showing one of my garters- and the skeletal leg! At the center of my feather headband, instead of a jewel, there was a skull, and a strand of black pearls made for a fabulous lavaliere rather than the classic white pearls. But what I prided myself on was my makeup- I had made my face look pale, and painted my eyes and cheeks to look sunken in, and topped it off with a ruby red pout. 

The team was also ready for the evening, made obvious by their elaborate costumes- Rose wore an elaborate steampunk ball gown, Poe was dressed as a goth, Kylo wore hippie togs, Thannison wore an elegant pirate’s costume, and Mitaka was dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. Now, I knew Hux and I looked good in our zombie Jazz Age couple costume, but Finn and Rey certainly took the cake. Rey’s arms were wrapped in gauze, and a bejeweled white dress shimmered in the faint light. Next to her was Finn, a mighty pharaoh who commanded respect. Right next to Thannison was a skeleton toting a double bass, as well as Frankenstein’s monster with a guitar. Along with a wolfman with a trumpet, an evil clown on trombone, and a ghost on drums, Hux introduced them to me as friends from a band back in his college days who would be accompanying us. I was glad to see everyone present, but I worried about Brendol. Why was he running late? Hux then took me aside, still looking handsome in his destroyed white tie and tails.

“My dad will be here in a minute or so, darling, so don’t worry,” he said, gently placing a kiss on my pale forehead. Like a miracle from God, Brendol’s car pulled up to the curb and stopped. He emerged from the car with a bow, wearing an elegant baroque ensemble that would make him the envy of the Sun King or any other monarch.

“Forgive my lateness, but thank you all for arriving on time,” he said with a nod. “Now, waitstaff,” he said, turning to Rose, Poe, Kylo, and Thannison, “you are equipped with pens that can record conversations, which would come in handy when around anyone that seems suspicious. But remember, this is no easy task since everyone will be in costume.”

“Understood,” Rose said.

“Rey, you and Finn are our spies. Both of you have hidden microphones and cameras in your costumes, so as you mill around, you’ll be taking pictures discreetly by touching the red gem on your collars.” Both of them nodded. Brendol explained the rest of the plan to the staff as I made double adjustments to the cameras hidden within the plants. “Very well then, are we all prepared?” Brendol asked. Everyone nodded in agreement as we all got ready for the ball to begin. “Wonderful. I’ll be helping tend bar ut needed. Best of luck, everyone,” he said, as we all walked into Nightingale. All the staff (including Pudge, our resident mouse catcher) was equipped with cameras to see if anything suspicious was going on. Once the ball ends, we would probably be sifting through footage to see if anything of interest popped up.

I sat at my vanity, warming up my voice and putting on the last of my ghostly makeup when I heard a slight jingle and the sound of Hux’s shoes tapping on the floor. The door then creaked gently open, and Hux appeared before me, his white tie and tails destroyed and covered in dirt and fake blood. His face was painted pale green and adorned with nasty looking scars, and a biohazard symbol was “etched” into his forehead. Hanging from his neck strap was an alto sax that looked like it had seen better days, the shine gone from Hux playing it so often. Despite that, I smiled sweetly at him. “You look dapper.”

“It’s almost time,” he told me, offering me his arm as Pudge nudged my leg, his black bowtie collar jingling merrily. I walked out onto the dark stage, the audience silent as corpses (ha, ha), waiting for what I had in store for them. I nodded at one of the backstage technicians, and he began to play a custom CD we had made for the beginning of the concert. With help from Hux’s co-worker Kylo, we made a perfect voiceover welcoming out guests to the ball. Now an ominous voice boomed throughout the club, startling many of the patrons (I swore I even heard a few screams!). 

_Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Gory Twenties. Blood flows like bootleg liquor, the jazz is hotter than Hell, and the dead walk the Earth once more. There is no escape from this possessed speakeasy- no one has survived to make it out and tell the tale! Keep your wits about you, otherwise you may be cursed to remain in this prison forever among restless flappers and murderous mafiosos! Like we said, there’s no way out!_

Psychotic laughter, followed by ghostly sounds played over the loudspeakers, along with clanking chains and cries of desperation. All was silent as a fog rolled across the stage. Then my disembodied voice rang out.

_Those fingers in my hair/That sly come hither stare/That strips my conscience bare/Ooh, it’s witchcraft…_

The lights go up, and we are revealed with wild applause to the audience, creatures of the night welcoming our victims to an Art Deco bloodbath. I sang on, scanning the audience for some sign of Vader, but there was no gas mask in sight. During the bridge, I did my usual routine- flirt with Hux and anyone else in the audience, vocalize a little, and do a sultry dance in place. It was during this that Rose gave us a confirmed sighting.

“He’s here. Do you see the mobster guy in the white cape?” she asked. I silently replied, making sure to step away from the microphone. “That’s where Vader is sitting. I’ll notify Brendol and the others ASAP. Tell Hux.” I slid close to Hux, whispering in his ear about the bad news while Mitaka played a solo.

“Mafiosos, over at table twenty,” I said, and then that was when I noticed his face turn pale as a sheet.

“Krennic.”

“What?”

“The man in the white cape is Krennic. I know him, and I hate that bastard,” he said angrily. “I have the great misfortune of him being my co-worker.”

“Should Kylo investigate him?”

“I would think so, but he’ll have to use a fine-toothed comb to go through it all.” Mitaka cleared his throat at us, and that signaled me to start singing again, all the while shooting death glares at Krennic.

HUX

I was angry. Angry at myself for telling Krennic, angry at Krennic for having the gall to show up, and angry in general because I had an untrustworthy co-worker I had confided in who would probably betray me! Nonetheless, the police were called, and would be on their way to, eventually, remedy the situation. But for the time being, nobody did anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, and the performance went off without a hitch- the crowd loved it!

Despite our situation, we were having a good time and the patrons enjoyed themselves. The fun kept going when one of the other musicians handed Phasma his trombone. Knowing the direction this was taking, she smiled and laughed- as did I. 

“I only have experience with piano, ukulele, harp, and some percussion so I’d like to apologize for this trombone concerto,” she said with a joking smile. “Armie, will you accompany me and make this a duet?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Yes indeed, my love,” I announced, readying my alto sax with great ceremony. Both of us nodded at the drummer, who picked up a woodblock. The drummer began tapping out a light beat on the woodblock, keeping time. Phasma flashed a dainty smile, and raised the trombone to her lips. What followed was something that sounded like a Wookiee getting in a fight with a porg- I was the porg. From my spot, I could see that despite her lack of trombone experience, Phasma was having fun and getting into it. Inspired by her, I got into it as well, punctuating her notes with trills, awkward squawks, and glissandos, even adding an altissimo scream. I played the part of the stereotypical cool jazz musician, lifting my saxophone up, swinging it forwards and back, and swaying it from side to side with every crappy note we played. Phasma and I played our final sour notes, and the woodblock assumed the role of the metronome one last time. The audience applauded (either because it was funny or out of relief-maybe both) as I bowed and she curtsied, an angelic smile dancing on her face. She handed the trombone back to the original owner, a faint ring of lipstick on the mouthpiece.

“And for my next performance, I will attempt to play Armie’s sax,” she said jokingly, as I dramatically clutched the alto to my chest.

“Oh no you won’t!” I joked, and she laughed in response.

“Just kidding! I can’t play it anyway,“ she replied, kissing my cheek gently. “Now we’re going to be a bit more serious for this number,” she said, lowering her voice an octave or so, perching on a bar stool. In her ruined white flapper dress, crystals and sequins glittering, she looked like a dove, but also like an angel. None of the other musicians played as I closed my eyes and played a slow, yearning (and in tune) melody. Like she tended to do during these sensual numbers, she closed her eyes and did a breathy hum before beginning the lyrics. The others joined in as I played a sensual phrase just as soon as she lifted her eyes and sang.

“The moon was all aglow, and heaven was in your eyes/The night that you told me/Those little white lies…” Just then, she stopped short and let out an audible gasp of fear. Standing in the foyer of the bar, looming like monsters in a bad dream, the mafiosos stood, smirking. In a stark black pinstriped suit, Vader stepped forward, dark glasses making him look even more sinister than he was.

"Lovely ball you’ve put together, Miss Phasma,” he intoned.

“You don’t belong here, the police are on their way,” Phasma hissed.

“Not anymore,” Vader argued. “We’ve brought you a gift.” Krennic stepped forward, holding one of the cameras, and proceeded to pour his expensive glass of champagne on it, dropping it to the floor. It sparked like crazy, and burst into flames as Brendol ran forward with a fire extinguisher.

“You won’t get away, Vader!” Brendol hissed, as they laughed viciously.

“I believe we have, and for that, your deadline got shorter and shorter. You have until the first of December to scrape up that ransom money. We’ll be watching,” Vader said, but not without leaving a suspicious box on his table. Immediately, I whipped out my cell phone.

“I need the police.”

PHASMA

With that, Vader left the club, along with his goons. I looked nervously at the box, which began to tick ominously, fearful for what might happen. Police sirens wailed, and a squad car as well as the bomb squad showed up just in time.

My mind immediately went to Vader and Krennic. how somehow, he must have known- or someone had tipped him off. Who could I trust? After all, Vader wasn’t just a threat to Nightingale, but to the town as well. And frankly, not knowing what his plans were scared me. Desperately, I looked at the anxious crowd, my eyes meeting Brendol’s. I thought I was being paranoid when I assumed that Vader might have placed something like a bomb in the club, but the box confirmed my fears. In the best interest of the patrons (and because one of the police officers advised me to do so), I decided they would have to evacuate for their own safety.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to safety reasons, we’ll have to end the celebration earlier than we expected.” I awaited the boos and demand for refunds, but no one said a word. Sure, there were a few groans of disappointment, but those were halted by firm words.

“Last call for drinks!” Thannison said, getting into his role of a Caribbean pirate, and a steady stream of people made their way to the bar, hoping to get in a last drink order before the fun would have to end. Immediately, I had an idea. I whispered something to Mitaka, and he played a longing piano line. The bassist and drummer picked up the tune, and Hux played a wistful tenor moan. Bowing my head and closing my eyes, I took a breath and sang into the microphone.

“ _I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places…”_ The party atmosphere slowly dissipated, thanks in part to Vader’s surprise appearance, and all that remained was a somber mood. It seemed more like a funeral than a Halloween celebration. I heard the sound of someone sniffling and holding back tears, and noticed that my own eyes were starting to mist and tear up. My voice quivered as I continued to sing the melody, making the song sound even more melancholy than it was. At the end of the verse, I composed myself as Hux and Mitaka took a solo. Pudge knew I was sad, and ended his mouse catcher duties to rub up against me and comfort me. The rest of the musicians fell silent as they were evacuated, leaving me singing as I made my way out of the club, makeup ruined by my tears- but I didn’t care. Just as I sang the last note, the police came running out, the suspicious package being revealed to be a smoke bomb which was recently defused.

Patrons milled about outside, confused and desperate for answers. One of the police men handed me a megaphone, and I began to confess everything to the patrons.

“Ladies and gentlemen… Nightingale is in danger. Vader is demanding five hundred thousand dollars by the start of December, and if we don’t make it,” my voice began to quaver, “Nightingale will be no more.” More murmurs resounded through the crowd, and I handed the megaphone to Brendol.

“But… we’ll find some sort of way to catch Vader in the act and get the club back. Mark my words, it will be done!” he said, to the cheers of the patrons. Someone took up the chant of “Save Nightingale!” and the crowd roared the chant in unison. It was a powerful scene, one that empowered me- and sent the wheels turning in my head for a plan. If we were going to get Vader out of the way and Nightingale back, then we might as well have to do an old-fashioned heist. Because Vader should have known better than to cross paths with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit with the trombone was fun to write. I inspired it off of an Instagram post of Gwendoline at someone's New Year's Eve party badly playing trombone and it made me think of Phasma.


End file.
